Jay Cutler reminds me of America. He is strong, and symmetrical. I think, sometimes, of Jay Cutler-and perhaps you do, too-that he is too young to know what it is to be a Franchise Quarterback. But, then, Marino was once young, once, too.

I like to imagine a strong, quiet quarterback, crouching behind center, steely-eyed and reserved, but taking it all in. Weighing, in one hand, the defensive alignment, and in the other hand, the play clock and how many timeouts he has, and, carefully, but determinedly, continuing to weigh, until the ball is snapped. I wonder, sometimes, if Cutler can do this. I fear the answer is no.

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Thomas Brady was only 25 when 9/11 happened. I wonder. Did he watch it on television? It was, I imagine, much like it must've been for Bart Starr to witness the assassination of President Kennedy.

Brady is, we're told, beautiful, like a fawn. I worry about fawns in professional football. When I was a girl, a professional quarterback was supposed to look like your father, only uglier. It seemed more appropriate, more real. The great mass of Americans, the big center, they don't want to see a fawn get sacked for a loss of yards. It reminds me of something Arthur Schlessinger once wrote about Fran Tarkenton.

Thomas Brady is a great American. And I pray, for football, and for America, that Jay Cutler can become one.